


All Roads Lead To Caldera

by jin_fenghuang



Series: The Price Of A Cup Of Tea [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Jetko, M/M, Multi, the walls of ba sing se
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:24:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jin_fenghuang/pseuds/jin_fenghuang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Main Pairings: Jet/Zuko, Mai/Zuko, Jet/Zuko/Mai</p><p>Other Pairings: Canon and Uncle/OFC</p><p>A/N: This is the sequel to 'The Walls Of Ba Sing Se'.</p><p>This story will continue to be mainly Jet/Zuko, but there will also be Zuko/Mai. I like Mai and she will have a part in this story. As for the ending, if you take a close look at the pairings, you might get an idea. <s>It's good to be Firelord</s>. And let's be honest, Zuko needs all the hugs he can get. </p><p>A big "Thank You" to Cadesama for the beta!</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Roads Lead To Caldera

  
..::..

 

The servants bowed low as they backed out of the room and into the adjacent bath, left hands curled respectfully over their right fists. They left Zuko alone in his newly appointed bedroom in the Earth King's palace. He took a look around. He vaguely remembered falling asleep here, was it yesterday? The day before? He'd been too exhausted to keep track of time, to care.

Two sets of clean robes had been laid out on his bed. Zuko recognized one as his own – someone must have gotten them from their apartment near the Jasmine Dragon – while the other was a Fire Nation Admiral uniform. Was this Azula's idea of a joke? Tiny blue flames formed between his fingers, crackled and arched, more electric force than fire. Zuko didn't even notice them until he picked up the uniform. He stared at his hands and the singed clothes, feeling his angry chi bleed from the tips of his fingers. He was losing it.

Zuko took a deep breath, forcing his chi back into a semblance of balance, and then rubbed his palms over his face, pressing them down on his eyes until he saw yellow flecks rise in the darkness. The last couple of days had been too much, had left too many questions and not enough answers. Zuko rolled his head on his neck and started pacing. Back and forth, from the bed to the desk, and over to the window, glaring at the furniture, the walls, the clothes on his bed.

Why did Azula want him on her side? Was this another one of her games? Would she arrest him the second he stepped onto her ship, like she had planned before? And what about Jet? Jet wanted him dead. That thought alone felt like a punch in the gut. It wasn't that Zuko didn't understand, on a basic level and when he pushed away all the hurt and anger, why Jet had done what he'd done. It wasn't the first time someone Earth Kingdom had reacted that way to his true identity. That Jet had not been able to see past it, had cold-bloodedly handed him in to be arrested and executed, that was what broke him inside but that, at least. Zuko could comprehend that but it didn't make it hurt less. Zuko tried to tell himself that it didn't matter anyway, that Jet had left the city with the Avatar's friends.

Uncle's betrayal, on the other hand, had come out of nowhere and Zuko still tried to wrap his mind around it.

There were hushed voices and Zuko wondered, for a second, if he'd been talking to himself, but then remembered the servants in the adjacent room filling a tub with hot water. The sweet smell of bath oil permeated his suite as the bathroom filled with steam. Zuko ran his fingers through his hair, digging them into the back of his skull, trying to ease the throbbing pain there. He shook his head. The last thing he wanted right now was to relax. The events of the last days were a turmoil in his head, twisting, turning, circling around Jet and Uncle. He was tense and antsy and at the same time bone-tired in a way that no amount of sleep could cure. Yet sleep, when it had come in the form of severe exhaustion only fed into his anxiety, replaying the past days in a loop of unwanted images.

Knowing this feeling wouldn't go away until he did _something_ , Zuko stalked out of the room. As much as he wanted to punch Jet, to scream at him at the top of his voice and then hit him until he actually deserved the hate he'd seen in Jet's eyes, Jet wasn't here. Uncle, on the other hand was. 

Zuko slammed the door behind him, unintentionally, and cursed under his breath at the loud noise, waiting for their downstairs neighbors to start yelling. Right. He didn't have neighbors anymore. Which annoyed him even more. Had he spent so much time among commoners that he had started to behave like one?

He briskly ordered a passing Dai Li agent to take him to Uncle and, as he followed the man, trying to keep track of the dead ends, endless hallways and time-worn staircases, he couldn't help but dread the answers he wanted. In a way, Uncle's betrayal hurt more than Jet's. Ever since he'd been banished, Uncle had been there for him, at his side, if Zuko wanted him to be or not. Or so he'd thought. It had seemed to be one of his life's few certainties. That he had been so wrong about one of the fundamentals of his life was unsettling to say the least, and made him worry about what else he had been wrong. Well, Jet for a start. Zuko balled his hands into fists, trying to keep a rein on his temper, on the overwhelming feeling of betrayal and self-loathing, but then a realization hit him clear as lightning: Why should he?

Blue flames crackled around his fingers and Zuko let them, the smell of ozone hanging thick in the air like incense. He was sick of trying, sick of rejection and sick of having to hide who he really was. Maybe Uncle's advice had been a lie all along. Maybe there was no right or wrong, just their side and his. And _they_ had made it abundantly clear that they did not want Zuko on their side, would treat him like a villain despite everything he'd done for them.

He pushed at the memory of Jet hurt under Lake Laogai, of how there had been no other conceivable choice but to save Jet's life and gathered his feelings of hurt, betrayal and rejection into a ball of blue flamed rage, the familiar burn settling like a long lost friend in the pit of his stomach.

Zuko bit back a sob, he focused instead on the white hot anger churning inside him, letting it wash over him, burn away the unwanted emotions. He felt the power rise from his stomach, snake along his arm and arch between his fingertips, brilliantly blue and searing hot. He punched a nearby wall with his flaming fist, enjoying the terrified little jump and wide eyed look the Dai Li agent gave in response. If everyone was dead-set to cast him as the villain, then he'd play the part.

The way Uncle had dismissed what the Avatar and his friends had done, had urged him to join them despite it, no matter the consequences, made Zuko wonder whose side was Uncle on. He ground his teeth, breathing with the flow of his blue tinged chi. It was time Uncle gave him some answers.

The sickly smoldering smell of the burnt plaster followed them down the hallway.

They descended another staircase and it was clear by the brightness of the green crystal lanterns, the dust and cobwebs that still clung to any place not in immediate use, that this part of the palace had only recently been opened up. Zuko guessed the Dai Li preferred their prisoners under the lake. 

Light spilled out from under the doors and through the small barred window of the cells that were in use. There were names bent onto the limestone slates above the doors and Zuko recognized some them as the names of former Ba Sing Se generals.

They turned a corner and walked past several dark, empty cells, one of them missing its door. Zuko counted the empty cells and suppressed a feeling of unease. Had one been reserved for him had he refused to cooperate?

"That's the one, your Highness." His guide pointed to a door further down the corridor and bowed. "If you would please excuse me, sir, I have duties to attend to."

Zuko dismissed him with a gesture, not really caring one way or another. So, that was where Uncle was.

Azula had stationed two Fire Nation guards alongside her Dai Li, and Zuko wondered why that was necessary. The cells were metal-reinforced and it wasn't as if Uncle could earthbend his way out anyway.

The Fire Nation guards, their red uniforms looking a sickly, moldy brown in the green crystal light, were deep in conversation. From the way they were talking freely, they must not have heard him coming. Zuko stopped and listened, and after a moment wished he hadn't. Their words were making his blood boil with rage.

One of them had apparently served under Uncle back in the days of the siege and was singing his high praise, even questioning Uncle's imprisonment.

That was about when Zuko'd had it. He stepped into the light, temper flaring.

"What is this treason?" he yelled, taking a threatening step toward them. And while he'd much rather yell at Jet, or Uncle, the yelling felt good. He knew how to deal with disrespectful subordinates.

There was terror in their eyes as they frantically dropped to their knees, kowtowing. "Your Highness, we meant no disrespect."

The two Dai Li agents in the background had the wisdom to stay silent and back further into the shadows as Zuko approached the terrified Fire Nation soldiers.

"You are both dismissed from your position. Report to your commanding officer immediately and have him send replacements!" Zuko's fury manifested in a fire-blast to the ceiling. "Now get out of my sight."

Zuko did not watch them go, but he could hear their hurried footsteps disappear down the hall. Instead, he stepped up to the barred window and slid open the hatch to Uncle's cell, peering in.

"Prince Zuko." A man with the half-shaved Ba Sing Se hairstyle got up from the floor and brushed the dust of his robes. He bowed in EarthKingdom fashion like one would to an equal. "What a pleasure to finally meet in person."

"What?" Zuko almost took a step back but caught himself in the last minute, refusing to show weakness. "Grand Secretariat Longfeng?"

"Former Grand Secretariat, I regret." The man bowed again. "But kind of you to remember." His voice took on a dry, sarcastic lilt, "I apologize, your Highness, but you will understand that under the circumstances," he gestured vaguely at the cell, "I find myself unable to offer adequate refreshments."

"What are you doing in my uncle's cell?" Zuko questioned and when Longfeng stepped aside to reveal Uncle's cross-legged figure behind him, Zuko ground out, in sudden realization: "Azula!" 

"It would seem that your sister has a rather droll sense of humor." Longfeng clasped his hands behind his back, his voice deceptively conversational. "How's my city?"

"We haven't burned it down yet, if that's what you're asking." Zuko tried to peer past the man to see Uncle. Why was Uncle ignoring him?

"That is most appreciated and I trust she'll be left in capable hands." Longfeng locked yes with him and Zuko had to admire the bloody-mindedness of the man. 

"May your journey home be a pleasant one, Prince Zuko. I hope you remember that you have friends in Ba Sing Se." 

 _'Friends indeed’_ , Zuko rolled his eyes at the blatant manipulation.

Longfeng smiled a cold politician smile. "I shall leave you to talk to the General." He gave a nod to the sitting figure and retreated to the other end of the cell where he sat down and smoothed his featured into meditative blankness.

As much as Zuko could appreciate the gesture, it really didn't make any difference. The cell was maybe ten feet by ten feet. Longfeng would be able to hear every word, even if they whispered. 

Zuko gestured for one of the remaining Dai Li agents to come closer. He pointed at Longfeng. "Take him to another cell!"

"I'm sorry." The agent visibly braced himself. "But I have direct orders from Princess Azula." 

Zuko felt blue flames crackle at the tips of his fingers, saw them reflected in the guard's widening eyes.

"Of course you do…" Zuko muttered, quenching the fire lapping at his hand with effort. The humiliation of his command being questioned in front of Uncle and Longfeng made it a struggle to contain his bending. The Dai Li considering Azula's orders to supersede his was a sour reminder of how fragile his return to grace still was. His eyes flicked back to the empty cells he knew where just around the corner, too emotionally exhausted to challenge the status quo. 

Zuko turned back to the cell. Uncle was sitting cross-legged on the floor, writing a letter.

"Uncle." Zuko swallowed around the hurt feelings in his throat, hating how desperate he sounded, well aware of Longfeng's presence. "It's me."

"Nephew." Uncle looked up, his face unreadable and for a moment Zuko wanted nothing more than to open that door, let Uncle out and return to the teahouse. But then Uncle spoke again. "I see you have not changed your decision?"

"I didn't make that decision, Uncle," Zuko snarled, feeling more betrayed than ever. "They made it for me."

"I am aware, Nephew, that our cover became too deep." Uncle gave him a sad look and reached to roll up the scroll. "I should have warned you about getting involved."

"But you are the one who took Jet in…" Zuko's head hurt. What was this all about? "I don't understand, Uncle."

Was Uncle asking him to be more like Azula? To never let anyone close, never show any emotion? Uncle didn't even like Azula, why would he suggest that? And while it made sense that if he hadn't let Jet close, none of this would have happened, the idea of never having that somehow seemed worse than the tainted memories he had now.

"Nephew –" Uncle looked down at his hands, shaking his head slightly. "The world needs balance, Prince Zuko." Uncle hid his hands in his sleeves. "Even if the price is high."

"And what price is that, Uncle?" Zuko rattled at the bars, glad that he could channel his confusion into anger. Anger he understood. This was too much, more than he could bear. He went on, his voice barely above a whisper, "They would never have accepted me, _they_ handed us in on the death warrant." That part still felt like a kick in the gut every time he thought about it. That no matter what he'd done they still wanted him dead for who he was.  "I was lucky that Azula offered me a way to regain my honor."

Zuko could have handled anger, shouting, would have preferred almost anything to the resigned disappointment in Uncle's eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"  

Uncle's back stiffened at Zuko's words and he turned his head away.

"You have no right to judge me Uncle!"

"I am not disappointed in you, Prince Zuko." Uncle was still not meeting his eyes, his voice rough, more hoarse then usual, "Even though I do not agree with the choice you made. I am disappointed in myself for allowing it to come to this."

"You brought this on yourself, you know." Zuko slammed the hatch shut, furious that Uncle would try to manipulate him even now. He raised his voice to be sure to be heard inside, having stopped caring that Longfeng or the guards could hear him. "We could have returned together. You could have been a hero."

He took a step away from the door, hammering his fists against the stone wall. This time he did nothing to repress the blue flames forming around his fingers and they rose around his hand with blinding force and heat strong enough to melt through steel. Zuko breathed in, let his chi bubble up from his stomach and sank his searing hot flame daggers into the stone wall next to the cell door with an angry scream. He dragged them down with a horrifying scratching sound and a rain of sparks that had the Dai Li agents back away and cover their ears. Zuko stalked out of the dungeon, leaving the two parallel ridges of cooling glass behind.

 

..::..

 

"He's going to die in a ditch."

Jet watched the Earth King and his bear disappear down the dusty road. He stretched carefully, his bruised shoulder protesting the treatment. Jet shook his head at the useless man-child and his pet and yawned. He hadn't slept for the better part of two days, and what little sleep he'd gotten while imprisoned in the crystal caves had been riddled with nightmares. He'd reached that stage of tiredness where everything was packed in cotton wool, where he'd pushed past anger and despair, where it took effort to care, where all he wanted was a place to sleep.

They'd landed a little after sunrise, not too far from ChameleonBay where the Water Tribe boats were moored and _his Majesty_ had decided that he wanted to get to know his people. _Well, good riddance._ Jet thought there wasn't a person alive he despised more than his sovereign at this moment. Not even the Fire Lord. Not even Zuko.

Back in Ba Sing Se, Jet had just thought that the Earth King was a useless symbol, but that was before he'd met the man. During their time on the flying bison's back, His Majesty had turned out to not only be useless but had managed to add infuriatingly whiny to the list. And he just wouldn't shut up. All Jet wanted were a few minutes of silence to wrap his head around the craziness that had been the last couple of days, but no, His Royal Highness had to blather on and on how his most trusted adviser had betrayed him and how cold and scared Bosco must be. By the time they'd finally landed, Jet had been about ready to deck the guy.

Sokka shrugged and turned away from Jet, already walking back to the flying bison before he answered, "Nah, he'll be fine."

Jet squatted down to pick a stalk of grass, forcing himself to stand back up, to not lie down and sleep right there and hopefully wake up from this nightmare back in his forest. He sighed. Some nightmares you could not wake up from, no matter how hard you tried. The memory of his parents' death flashed in front of his eyes and Jet straightened his back and pointed his straw at the retreating figure, his tone nasty, "Yeah, until the bear gets hungry."

"You're more than welcome to stay with him," Sokka turned back to Jet, sounding tired and annoyed. He sucked in the air through his teeth, giving Jet a look that clearly stated, _'and don't I wish you would'_.

They locked eyes for a second and Jet was starting to wonder if he'd have to fight for his place on that stupid flying cow, if they really were planning on ditching him together with the Earth King.

"Listen," Sokka shook his head and rubbed his tired, bloodshot eyes, "We've got bigger things to worry about now. He'll manage. We did."

Jet pushed past Sokka and climbed up onto the saddle where Katara was fussing over the unconscious Avatar before Sokka could even attempt to stop him. The kid did have a point, though. What did he care if the Earth King got mauled by his pet? The man was a useless waste of space. He was sure there was some kind of poetic justice in that. Anyway, they needed to get the Avatar to safety, that had to be their top priority.

He'd long ago given up pretending to be okay with riding on the giant flying bison and his hands were numb from holding onto the saddle, but he didn't dare let go. Exhausted, tired beyond words from lack of sleep and the emotional turmoil of the past days, but too terrified of the height to sleep, he watched the countryside fly by. Every now and then his eyes would drift shut and he'd doze off into the oblivion of utter exhaustion, but then the bison would change course, or flap its tail and Jet's eyes would snap open, terrified and wide. Heart hammering, he would tighten his grip on the saddle, trying to catch his breath, the memory of the Avatar falling flashing in front of his eyes with horrifying detail.

Jet fixed his eyes on the horizon, not daring to look down at the fields and forests speeding by below, hoping that he would not end up a permanent feature.

This was not at all like being up in his trees. He knew his trees, knew how to swing from branch to branch, knew how to fall and roll in the leaves below. He could trust his trees, not like this swaying, unpredictable animal. In his forest it, would be his fault if he fell. But now he'd handed his life over to this big flying cow, and what he resented most of all was that he was not in control. Jet scowled at the landscape realizing how long it had been since he'd been in control of his own life. How he had let his Freedom Fighters down.

None of this would have happened if he'd never met the Avatar, if Katara hadn't _convinced_ him to change his ways on that fateful day when she'd left him frozen to the tree. Everything had spiraled out of control starting then and he'd made one bad decision after the other ever since. If he could go back in time and change that one fateful day, he'd never meet Zuko and right now the Avatar would not be hanging onto his life by whatever time that Spirit Water had bought him.

Letting Katara talk him into thinking that he'd been wrong, that really was what it all boiled down to, wasn't it? And he'd had enough. He'd lost everything, had let down the people who'd trusted him. His home was gone and now the last of his friends, too. He'd have to get someone to help him write to Smellerbee and Longshot, to let them know what had happened, and that he was okay.

Jet glared at her hunched back. He really had been stupid listening to her when he'd known deep down that he was right. He'd thrown it all away, had lost himself in the promise of a redemption he'd never needed in the first place. But, he thought grimly, not all was lost, there was one small bit he could get back. That part of him that he'd suppressed for too long. He'd been right about the Fire Nation all along and now they were all paying the price for not listening to him, for doing things their way. He would not make that mistake again.

The sun had not yet burned away the morning haze when they arrived at ChameleonBay. A big gray shape Jet had from a distance assumed to be a rock, took on the unmistakable shape of a Fire Nation warship. The unfairness of it all made him grind his teeth. For a moment he thought all was lost, that the Fire Nation had truly won and that he should have anticipated this, that things seemed to go from bad to worse these days, but then Sokka leaned over the side of the saddle yelling 'Dad!' waving back at one of the man on deck.

It took Jet a moment, through the sluggishness of exhaustion, to comprehend what had happened. Had the Water Tribe warriors actually managed to capture a Fire Nation warship? Jet whistled low under his breath. That was impressive. He had to respect anyone who'd managed that.

When they landed on the front deck a group of Water Tribe warriors was already waiting for them, and Jet had to shake off a feeling of unease. Their Fire Nation disguise was a little too realistic for comfort.

"Let me."

Jet elbowed his way past Katara, ignoring her indignantly huffed 'hey' and picked up the Avatar. The pain in his bruised shoulder part of his penance, Jet's left hand gently supported the Avatar's head and back, with the boy's legs slung over Jet's right arm as he carried him down from Appa before any of the men or Sokka could interfere. He'd failed the Avatar once already, but not this time. This time things would be done his way, and he wouldn't let Katara stop him from doing the right thing. He measured his pace, not hurried, never hurried, but solemn, coming to stand in front of the group of warriors. The Avatar hung limp, doll-like in Jet's arms, weighing not much more than the Duke. Jet pushed that thought away, focusing on the task at hand.

"The Avatar has been hurt," he addressed the men, not knowing who the Chief was, holding the lifeless boy out to them. The men frowned at the news and then nodded gravely.

Jet gently placed the boy in the arms of a warrior whose name Jet later learned was Bato and stepped aside. Cradled in the arms of the much taller man, the Avatar looked even more frail and what had been meant as a gesture to reassure Jet's position in the group, shook him to his bones. That this skinny, injured kid was all that stood between them and the Fire Lord winning was truly terrifying, and if Jet had not seen with his own eyes how much power the Avatar wielded, he'd have despaired at the thought.

Katara scrambled to the Avatar's side, glaring at Jet, checking the Avatar over, as if to make sure Jet had done no further damage. Jet held her gaze, unwilling to back down from the challenge. This was all her fault anyway. He'd told her it was a trap, but had she listened?

Katara was the one to look away first. She shook her head and muttered something Jet could not make out, but was sure was not an endearment, and followed Bato below deck, not willing to leave the Avatar's side.

The blind girl was still up on the bison and Jet decided that one more good deed wouldn't hurt. He climbed back up onto the saddle, reaching for her hand.

"Hey kiddo, need help getting down?"

She smacked it away with more strength than he'd thought a little girl capable of.

"I'm going to help your face," she grumbled, patting her way along the edge of the saddle and sliding down the bison's tail all by herself. She sighed with relief as her feet hit the metal of the deck. "Sweet!" she announced, and Jet swore he could see the sheet-metal ripple under her toes. He did agree with her, though. Anything was better than flying.

Suddenly the only one left, he looked around for a familiar face. Sokka was standing next to a man Jet assumed to be Sokka's father, off to the side, animatedly recounting the events. Jet, not knowing anyone, or what else to do, walked over to them and put a hand on Sokka's shoulder.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Sokka?" Jet gave the man a friendly smile.

"Right." Sokka's voice was clipped, and he glared at Jet's hand until Jet got the hint and removed it.

"This is Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe," Sokka introduced the older man.  "Dad, this is Jet."

"Leader of the Freedom Fighters," Jet interjected smoothly, smiling confidently at the man, but inwardly annoyed. Was everyone he knew some kind of royalty? "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

"Oh, I know who you are." Chief Hakoda laughed good-naturedly and at Jet's puzzled look went on to explain: "Heard you destroyed one of their dams, cutting off the supply-lines through that valley."

Jet narrowed his eyes at Sokka who, oddly enough, seemed to be as surprised by the Chief's remark as Jet was.

"Our headquarters used to be in that forest," Jet replied, evading the issue. It wouldn't do to antagonize the man, after he'd just gotten a foot in the door, metaphorically speaking.

"That's not …" Sokka interrupted, voice high-pitched with exasperation. "Who told you that?"

"We found his wanted poster." Chief Hakoda looked from his son to Jet and back, puzzled. "When we captured this ship we looked through their files. You've got quiet a rap-sheet, young man."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Jet smiled around his straw, enjoying Sokka's silent outrage. He'd been right all along and it was about time someone acknowledged that. None of this shit would have happened without their _help_.

One of the men waved at the Chief, beckoning him over.

"Well, boys," Chief Hakoda grabbed his son into a quick bear-hug before turning to Jet. "Why don't you get settled? There's food in the mess hall."

The Chief kept looking at Jet, clearly expecting something and suddenly it dawned on Jet that this was the kind of situation where he was expected to bow. Growing up in a forest didn't exactly teach you those kinds of manners, and back in the city he'd just followed Li's lead.

Jet wrapped his left hand over his right, raising them to chest-level, or was about to when the Chief grabbed his right arm near the elbow, pulling him forward with a rough arm clasp, making him stumble and nearly crash into the man. Jet had to bite back a scream at the sudden motion, the pain in his injured shoulder flaring up at the sudden motion, leaving bright afterimages dance across his vision.  

"You alright?" Chief Hakoda asked and Jet nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jet let out a long hiss. "Nothing that a good night's sleep won't fix."

"Let me know if you need patching up." Hakoda put a hand on Sokka's shoulder. "It's good to have you back, son."

Sokka smiled at his dad with genuine fondness and Jet felt a pang of envy at their relationship. No wonder they didn't understand: they still had family.

A man who introduced himself as Heka beckoned Sokka and him to follow, leading them toward the metal storm door that led below deck. The air was warmer here, with no cold sea breeze to carry away the heat of the sun-baked metal and Jet shivered at the temperature change.

"Sorry, we haven't figured out how the lamps work yet." Heka handed Sokka a small clay pot with a wick in it. "Only captured the ship a few days ago. Still got a few kinks to work out."

Sokka thanked the man and he and Jet followed him under deck. Someone had placed oil lamps, just like the one Sokka was carrying, in semi-regular intervals along the walls. Their wavering circles of light were barely bright enough to illuminate the windowless hallway. Jet had to swallow back the feeling of unease the dark doorways gave him as they passed, and kept telling himself that at least the light wasn't green.

When Heka finally pushed open a heavy metal door, Jet was relieved to see that there were already people inside. More oil lamps were burning, shoved in all four corners of the room. The room itself was lined with bunk beds, each with a small locker attached to the headboard. There was faint snoring and Jet counted three Water Tribe men sleeping in the bunk beds. Heka pointed to two empty ones at the far end.

"There are clothes in here." Heka opened a locker and pulled out shirts and pants handing them to Sokka and Jet. "You never know when we're in for visitors."

"Thanks, Heka," Sokka addressed the man and Jet joined in, yawning heartily.

Jet sat on an empty bunk bed, looking at the soft red shirt in his hands. It was just like the one he used to wear back when...  Nostalgia overwhelmed him as he held the familiar red tunic, felt its rough fabric under his fingers and suddenly Jet couldn't get rid of his Ba Sing Se clothes fast enough. He shrugged out of his long-sleeved hanfu balling it up and putting it away in his locker. His hand on the door he took one last look at the expensive clothes inside. It really was over, he thought as he closed the door on his Ba Sing Se clothes and that part of his life.

Jet hung the long-sleeved shirt on the hook at the end of his bed. The room was comfortably warm without it. He sighed with relief as he belted the tunic, feeling like himself for the first time in weeks.

Even though the bed was narrow and only covered with a military blanket, it looked really inviting. Jet's eyes burned with lack of sleep, and he lay down, wrapping the blanket around himself. It even smelled familiar, carrying him back to his forest. They'd wake him if they needed him. Now that they'd made it to the ship, it wasn't as if they could leave him behind.  

 

 ..::..

 

Mai checked her appearance in the mirror and flicked an invisible speck of dust off her sleeve. What was Azula thinking? A special dinner for an admiral? Mai sighed. This had better be over quickly. If she'd wanted to attend boring official dinners, she'd have stayed in New Ozai with her parents.

Checking her appearance once more in the mirror, she mentally went over the assortment of knives she was carrying, picturing each of the eighty-seven blades in their right place, an exercise that always calmed her nerves. The only reason she was going at all was Zuko. Mai took a deep breath. She'd barely spoken to him since he'd joined them and – Mai willed down her blush. They were not even in the same room yet. It really was most annoying.

When she stepped out of her rooms one of the Dai Li – to Mai's annoyance – was waiting to escort her. Mai frowned and followed him, wondering why Azula really wanted her to attend that stupid dinner. The agent excused himself as they arrived at the garden and Mai, all by herself, stepped around the badger-mole engraved spirit-wall and over the raised doorstep into the mild Ba Sing Se night.

In the middle of the small courtyard garden, a single table had been placed under a canopy. A romantically arranged dinner table. Realization hit and she pressed her lips together in annoyance at the set-up. Of course they had. She felt a headache coming at the perfect wrongness of it all. It was exactly what she would have wanted, had dreamt of and had acted out with her dolls as a child. It would have been perfect beyond her wildest dreams if it had been Zuko’s idea, or even her own. Azula and Ty Lee setting this up made her stomach clench in anger and her palms sweaty in fear of rejection. They'd not seen each other for more than three years. She had no idea if Zuko would even want to be friends with her. Mai wondered, dreaded, whether they might have anything in common anymore other than childhood memories.

And yes, there he was, scowling and slouching and – Mai swallowed hard – that scar. It filled her with anger and the impulse to hug Zuko and kiss it better. If that were possible. Instead she stood, face impassive, watching him.

She hadn’t been allowed to go to the Agni Kai, her mother, always good at reading the signs in the wind, had forbidden it. Zuko’s banishment had meant the end of her mother’s court ambitions, the end of Mai’s betrothal. Her mother had the servants pack up the whole household overnight and had moved them to her grandmother’s home in the country side. As far from court as possible. As if that hadn't been enough, her parents had also forbidden her to ever speak of Zuko or their time at court ever again. So she hadn't, but she'd listened avidly to whispers and rumours. She'd always been a quiet child and it had been easy for her to listen in on the adults' conversations as long as she pretended to be absorbed into whatever she was doing. They tended to forget she was in the room, quietly reading or practicing her calligraphy, and would gossip freely. But the servants' idle chatter, and distorted bits and pieces of information she'd heard made no sense. Was she really to believe that Zuko had plotted to seize the throne, challenged his father and tried to poison War Minister Qin and then, during the Agni Kai, had fallen to his knees like a coward, had begged, cried, and dishonoured himself in front of the whole court? There were ludicrous claims that the Earth King had attended and cheered Fire Lord Ozai on. The one thing she could believe was that Azula had laughed at her brother's humiliation, but Zuko challenging his father made no sense and didn't sound at all like the Zuko she knew. And if it was true that Iroh had been sent by Fire Lord Ozai to keep an eye on Zuko, then why was Iroh locked up and a traitor while Zuko had joined them without hesitation? It didn't add up.

Even Azula, when Mai had asked her about Zuko a few days ago, had been oddly vague about what had happened that day, almost as if she didn't want to remember it either. All she’d said was that Zuko had it coming, that he should have known better.

Mai sighed, Zuko was standing with his back half turned to her, with only the unscarred side of his face visible to her from this angle. The brief illusion of what should be was breathtaking and heartbreaking and then he turned.

Mai stared at the scar, willing her face impassive, even as her heart ached for him. No one had that coming.

Zuko was hovering near the table, inspecting its contents with a guarded face that made it clear that he, too, was well aware of what, or at least that something, was going on.

His clothes were slightly too large, emphasizing his awkwardness and the way his shaggy hair fell adorably into his eyes and Mai felt the familiar but almost forgotten butterflies in her stomach. He looked anxious and miserable, as if expecting the worst and Mai decided to put him out of his misery before he could storm off in a temper.

"Zuko," her voice was soft, but he heard her nevertheless, and turned to face her fully.

"Mai – I" Zuko gestured at the table, the flowers, the absurdity of it all. "I–  I think Azula intends for us to have dinner."

He gave her a tiny smile and Mai was annoyed at herself for the effect it had on her. It made her heart beat faster and her palms sweaty and she resisted the urge to wipe them on her robes. Zuko gestured to the servant to pull out her chair for her and waited for her to be seated before sitting down himself.

"So, Azula, huh." He fiddled with his chopsticks, waiting as the servants uncovered one steaming dish after the other. Someone was tuning a liuqin and the beginning of a familiar melody filled the night. Zuko gripped his chopsticks hard enough for his knuckles to show white beneath his skin.

Mai nodded, wondering what was up with the Dai Li agent playing a bad rendition of _Butterfly Lovers_ on the liuqin* and then she sighed. She narrowed her eyes at the choice of music. Doomed lovers - funny, Azula, real funny.

"I’d say she means well, but -" Mai was intensely aware of his presence.

"She means something, all right," Zuko muttered, not looking at her, and Mai smiled a little bit, some of her worries easing. Maybe he'd not changed all that much after all.

"Well, the food doesn't look that awful." Mai lifted a lid, breathing in the steam that was rising from what looked like deep-fried pork in a sticky red sauce. She wasn’t actually hungry, her nerves too tight with him so close to her, but she'd do anything to not have him leave right away. It didn't matter that Azula had planned this. Mai decided that since she'd got Zuko all to herself she was going to make the most of it.

"Almost tastes like Fire Nation food." Zuko took a bite and nodded. "Just isn't seasoned enough."

Mai picked up a piece of meat and put it down at her bowl of rice. She tasted the sauce on her chopsticks gingerly. It was sweet and tangy, not spicy at all. She glanced at Zuko through lowered lashes, wondering how long it had been since he'd had proper food. Soon they'd be home and – She took another bite. While whatever this was wasn't bad, but it wasn't even close to Fire Nation food.

"I guess we shouldn't let it go to waste."

Zuko nodded and picked up a piece of meat, putting it on her plate and Mai blinked at the EarthKingdom custom. It really was time that he came home. His hand accidentally touched hers as they both reached for the steamed bread and he muttered and apology. Mai looked down at her plate, unable to take another bite. She sipped a bit of tea and watched him eat, the butterflies in her stomach making it impossible to eat.

The horrible music grew louder and something pink moved at the edge of her vision, in the bushes. Mai put her chopsticks down, about to turn and glare at Ty Lee and Azula to go away when Zuko jumped up and yelled at the Dai Li agent to stop butchering the liuqin.

At first Mai thought he'd sit back down, but instead he stalked over to where Azula was not too stealthily hiding in the greenery.

"I know you're back there, Azula! Don't you have something more important to do?" Zuko's outraged voice echoed through the courtyard and Mai cringed inwardly, feeling stupid thinking that Azula had arranged this for anything but her own amusement.

Mai knew how _this_ went. Azula would do something outrageous, usually with Zuko and her being the butt of her jokes, then Zuko would blow up and … it was all so tedious.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Azula stood up, pretending to brush the dust off her sleeve. "I was just telling Ty Lee to stop messing around in the bushes." She ignored Ty Lee's indignant interjection and went on, tone a bit more sharp then necessary, "It's undignified."

Mai sighed. Yep there they went again. Not willing to endure more bickering, or worse end up with a burning apple on her head dripping wet in the fountain, she tugged at Zuko's arm before her idiot could do something particularly stupid. She leaned in closer and whispered: "Let's get out of here!"

Zuko, to her surprise, only gave one more token glare at Azula before agreeing with her. "Good idea."

Mai hid her surprise behind a frown. Maybe some things did change after all.

They got off the Tu Gui in the Middle Ring, joining the thousands of citizens out for an after dinner stroll. The night was warm and Zuko was walking next to her, close enough that their arms bumped into each other every few steps. And even though they had conquered the city, life seemed to go as usual. One of the passing Dai Li agents bowed to them and Mai thought that they were really quite useful. Ba Sing Se was much cleaner and better organized than about any other place in the EarthKingdom she'd been to. It was pleasantly free of mud and dirt and, Mai shuddered, bugs. She could almost image living here herself. Well, maybe not living, but definitely visiting. No wonder Zuko and Iroh had chosen to hide here.

A man was selling Ba Sing Se style baked sweet potatoes from a tray. He kept on obnoxiously advertising his 'Four Fragrant Oils' and his pungent wares with a loud voice. Most people seemed to avoid him, even crossing the street to get away, but he did get a buyer every now and then and Mai sighed in relief when he finally dropped far enough behind for the smell to disappear.

It was strangely normal, and Mai wondered, biting her lip in anticipation, as their hands bumped again, of when Zuko would finally take hers.

They were walking past a cluster of stalls when suddenly one of the shopkeepers came running out from behind her fruit stall and threw herself at Zuko.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Li!" The girl hugged Zuko tightly, burying her face in his shoulder. "We were so worried."

Mai mouthed 'Li' back at Zuko, who avoided her eyes. Her fingers inched toward her knives as she watched the scene unfold, but the girl didn't appear to be a threat. Mai narrowed her eyes, taking in the girl's pretty face, the way she clung to Zuko and how he didn't seem to mind at all, was even hugging her back. Mai pressed her lips together. At least not a threat in that way.

"Jin?" Zuko grabbed her shoulders and pulled her gently away. "What are you doing here?"

Mai could see the unease in his face, and she had a feeling that it had to do with more than just his name.

The girl gestured toward the fruit stall where the season's first oranges and fresh raspberries were displayed in delicately bent earthen bowls. "I'm working, silly." She smiled, but then her face went solemn. "Have you talked to Smellerbee and Longshot yet?" She grabbed Zuko's hand, holding it, looking up at him with big adoring eyes. "I'm so glad you're okay." She briefly smiled at him before continuing, "Did you find the jer- Jet?"

"No!" Zuko wrenched his hand out of hers, suddenly furiously angry. He took a step back, visibly shaking and Mai was about to ask who this Jet person was when Zuko started cursing and kicked one of the fruit crates. "And I don't care!" The crate burst into flames mid-air, bouncing down the street in a ball of fire. "I don't fucking care!" Zuko let out a frustrated huff belying his words, and backed away further, hands balled to white-hot flaming fists. He punched an angry blue flamed pillar of fire into the air and snarled: "That fucking bastard!" His voice dyed down to a whisper, "I trusted you--"

 _'Whoa there_ ' Mai thought watching the charred crate tumble with a trail of smoke down the street. That was a new level of overreaction, even for Zuko. She could feel the force of his anger fuelled flames even from where she was standing. There were muffled screams and people were scrambling to get away from him. The burning crate came to a halt a bit further down the promenade.

"He … I fucking hate him!" Zuko hollered again but Mai could hear the suppressed sob, and the tell-tale shine in his eyes, before he turned on his heels and stalked off to spirits-know where.  

Mai considered going after him, but decided that there was no point until he'd calmed down. She picked up one of the oranges from Jin's cart, dragging her thumbnail down the side, peeling it. She inhaled the fresh scent and raised her eyebrow at the disappearing Zuko. "Mind telling me what that was about?"

Jin leaned against her stall and they both watched the crowd mutter and part for Zuko as he disappeared down the street. She twirled one of her braids between her fingers, a sly expression on her face.

"I guess they broke up for real this time …"

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Any dialog/plot you recognize is from the Nick Mag Comic: Going Home Again. I consider that comic canon. 
> 
> * Yes, 'Butterfly Lovers' is not only meant for more than one player, but also erhu or violin, not liuqin, but the music being bad was kinda the point.  
> Further, this is Azula trolling, since the story of the Butterfly Lovers resembles Romeo and Juliet. 
> 
> ** Baked Ba Sing Se. Ba Sing Se wishes for freedom. (if you squint)


End file.
